A Study in Pink
by ScrewsGoTight
Summary: Greg plays a prank which turns out rather a lot better than he expected... Rated M for graphic M/M sex, also Dom/Sub themes.


"GREGORY LESTRADE!" Mycroft roared, storming down the stairs, his hands tightly balled into fists. It was a Sunday and he'd just woken up, and walked into the bathroom to spot a 'present' from the only other person in the house. God knows he loved the man, but this was the last straw.

"Yes dear?" Said man then poked his head around the corner of the kitchen door, sniggering at the sight of the elder Holmes' dishevelled hair, now sustaining a ghastly shade of the brightest pink.

"I am going to kill you" He stormed towards the DI, glaring at him, pointing a manicured nail, the colour matching that of his hair, accusingly. "You utter bastard. I didn't think you actually would!" Greg backed away from Mycroft, the limp in his leg still slightly prominent.

It had been two days since Greg had left hospital, after a run in with Moriarty had left him bleeding in his own flat. Mycroft had got there just in the nick of time, and despite being declared dead on arrival in A&E, the medics managed to resuscitate him. That had been a few weeks ago, and despite a bullet wound in his leg and deep lacerations in his back and shoulder, he was fully recovered. Whilst succumbing to the boredom of a hospital bed, Sally had brought him the pinkest shade of nail varnish she could find, which he then used to entertain himself, by begging his boyfriend to let his paint his nails. Afterwards, he admired his work and had jokingly commented that 'Mycroft would look good with the pink hair to match'.

"You look adorable!" Greg giggled backing completely against the counter, wincing as it jolted his back, cold against his bare skin; his shirt was lost somewhere upstairs, and he wasn't planning on finding it anytime soon.

"Adorable! I'll give you adorable!" Mycroft strode through the kitchen, pausing inches in front of the detective. Greg flinched at the sudden proximity, bracing against the counter. He could feel the anger rolling off Mycroft in waves, feeling almost claustrophobic as the mans arms came round to cage him against the marble counter.

"My…" Greg eyed him warily, swallowing nervously at the slightly wild look in Mycroft's eye. They glinted, Mycroft leaning in to purr into Greg's ear.

"Oh, my dear, you are going to pay for this in so many ways…" A shiver ran down Greg's back and he swallowed. Mycroft smirked in response, breath tickling Greg's neck. "Get on your knees." He demanded, pulling back and tutting when Greg stood firm. His eyes were dilated slightly, and Mycroft could practically see his heart racing by the vein in his neck. "I said, _kneel_." He brought up a hand to caress Greg's cheek, and the older man bit his lip, staring defiantly at Mycroft. Whenever Mycroft was angry, Greg usually just let him rant but sometimes… His train of thought came to a sudden stop as Mycroft's hand slipped into his hair, fisting it painfully and yanking him up to his eye level. Greg hissed slightly in pain, the sensation going straight to his growing erection.

"I am your master and you _will_ kneel!" Mycroft snarled, twisting his hand and forcing Greg down, his still recuperating leg buckling beneath him. A hint of worry flashed through Mycroft's eyes, but he quickly pushed it away. He could worry about Greg later.

"Since when were you my master?" He raised an eyebrow in question, looking up at Mycroft, trying desperately to stop his gaze from travelling to the bulge in the politician's trousers.

"Since you decided to disobey me." Stepping closer, Mycroft released Greg's hair, in favour of cupping his cheek, thumb trailing along his upper lip. "Perhaps you should put that mouth to good use." Greg smirked and opened his mouth, sucking down Mycroft's thumb to the knuckle. He swirled his tongue around it, taking Mycroft by surprise. He moaned slightly, more blood pooling in his groin. "Now who's a good little cock slut?" He regained control, pulling out his thumb, Greg cheekily, teasing it with his teeth as it left his mouth. Mycroft rubbed the thumb along Greg's cheekbone, saliva lining his skin. "But I think your greedy mouth needs something bigger…" He pushed his hips forward to make his point, fisting his hand back in Greg's hair.

The detective locked eyes with his boyfriend, bringing his hands up to unfasten his trousers, hooking his fingers around the waistband and tugging them until they pooled around his ankles. Leaning in, he traced the outline of Mycroft's cock with his tongue through his underwear, the grip of Mycroft's hand tightening in response. Greg mouthed it slowly, eyes fluttering shut, fingers inching down Mycroft's underwear. When they joined the trousers on the floor, the elder Holmes quickly stepped out of them, cock stood proudly against his stomach. Greg grinned, darting out his tongue to lick a throbbing vein along the underside. Mycroft shivered, trying to push Greg closer. He kissed slowly up to the swollen head, lapping up the pre-come dripping from it. Impatient, Mycroft yanked him back to glare at him.

"In your mouth, _now_." He growled dangerously.

"Yes _master._" Greg licked his lips and turned his gaze back to Mycroft's prick, wrapping his hand around the base and bringing it down to his lips, pressing his mouth to the tip. Mycroft pushed forward, sliding between Greg's lips. He moaned lowly as the hot, wet heat surrounded him, Greg bobbing his head down on his cock, taking as much in as he could. His hand stroked and twisted the bottom, as he worked his tongue over Mycroft's dick. He glanced up to see Mycroft's eyes blown dark, watching him intently, swearing under his breath. He began to move his head, letting his eyes flutter shut, swallowing the pre-come leaking onto his tongue. Greg moaned at the taste, the sound vibrating around Mycroft's cock, earning himself a jerk from his hips, the tip of his prick sliding into his throat. The detective gagged slightly, pulling back, teeth scraping the underside of Mycroft's length. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Mycroft, and he bobbed back down onto him.

"Gregory, let go." He glanced up and sat back, hand leaving Mycroft's cock to hold his hip. Greg arched an eyebrow at him, and Mycroft merely smirked in reply, grabbing his own shaft and pushing it back into Greg's mouth, supporting the back of his head. "You're such a little whore Gregory." He groaned loudly, thrusting into Greg's throat, the older man gagging around Mycroft's cock. "But I don't think…" Grunting, Mycroft fucked Greg's mouth hard, forcing himself into his throat. "You deserve my come down your throat, do you?" Greg stared up at him, wide-eyed, trying his best to suck around Mycroft's prick, hands gripping his eyes, encouraging deeper.

All too soon, Mycroft pulled out and stepped back, panting, grabbing the base of his member to stop himself from coming. "Get up and bend over. Clothes off." He demanded, watching hungrily as Greg stood, kicking off his pyjama bottoms, erection bobbing free. He caught Mycroft's eye and turned, bracing himself against the counter, leg's spread wide. "Hands behind your back." He glanced back uncertainly before leaning forward, resting his cheek against the marble counter, being supported by his shoulder, one hand gripping the opposite wrist against the small of his back. "Good boy…" Mycroft stepped forward, sliding his cock between Greg's arse cheeks. The older man groaned, arching towards it. Mycroft narrowed his eyes and slapped his hand down onto one of Greg's arse cheeks. "Now now, none of that." He bit his lip, nails digging into his wrist, trying his best to keep still and Mycroft rubbed up against him, his cock leaking copiously onto his stomach.

"P-please master…" Mycroft leaned forward, murmuring in his ear.

"What do you want? Do you want my thick, rock hard cock deep inside your arse?" Greg whimpered with need and nodded. "You're such a horny slave, begging for me…" He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard. The head of Mycroft's prick pressed against his entrance and he gasped as it slid in past the first ring of muscle. It burned and he felt tears prick his eyes as Mycroft slid in fully to the hilt, his legs quivering with the effort of staying upright. He felt a hand slide into his hair and pull his head back, making him arch his back fully. Greg cried out, thankful for the mild lubrication his saliva had provided. Mycroft's hand landed on his arse again and he grunted. He laughed quietly, pulling out of Greg and slamming back in. Greg muffled a moan, chewing his lip until it bled. Mycroft worked up an unrelenting pace, pounding roughly into Greg, one hand twisted in his hair, the other holding his hip in a bruising grip. Greg swore under his breath, heat coiling in his stomach as Mycroft grazed his prostate with the head of his cock. His own erection ached for release, and he whined, clenching his hands to stop them from moving.

"MASTER, PLEASE!" Mycroft's head flung up, his breath coming in pants.

"What do you want Gregory?" He snapped into his prostate again with purpose, being rewarded with a cry from the DI.

"Let me come Master, please!"

"Why should I?" Mycroft sneered, making sure to nudge his spot every other thrust. Greg wriggled and whimpered, desperate for contact, his cock turning purple.

"Just, PLEASE!" He begged and Mycroft relented, releasing Greg's hip and reaching down to tug his prick in time with his thrusts. Greg bucked and moaned loudly.

"Th-thank- ah, my god! –thank you master!" He mumbled and groaned, his head thumped forward onto the counter. Mycroft's thrusts became erratic, slamming into Greg and trailing off expletives, swiping his thumb over Greg's slit.

"MY-mm-rof'!" He called out, snapping into Mycroft's hand and spurting thick ropes over the counter, walls clenching around the politicians cock, his vision blanking white momentarily. Mycroft cried out as Greg contracted around him, losing control completely, taking both his hips in his hands and pounding into him, emptying inside him with a loud moan a few minutes later.

Greg slumped forward completely, and would've fallen onto the floor if it wasn't for Mycroft's arms wrapping around him. He panted and Mycroft pulled out then turned him slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Greg looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, feeling deliciously sore all over. Mycroft grinned and held him close, breathing slowly returning to normal. Greg's eyes travelled back up to Mycroft's hair and he giggled.  
"You really do look adorable like that." Mycroft's anger had complete dissipated now, and he simply pouted at his boyfriend, pulling down a lock of hair and scowling at it.

"Do not." He examined it and huffed, attempting and failing to smooth out his hair.

"Trust me love." Greg leaned up and kissed his nose. "I _really _enjoy you with pink hair."


End file.
